A/N: So. That was one hell of a long week. Suffice to say that many things have happened, but I've picked the story up from where it was left off. Kinda. Most of the outlines and everything we had planned were lost years ago, but I have distant memories of them and I think I have a really cool direction to take the story over...Well, I'm pretty sure it's gonna be a while before we're done. Thank you to everyone who has sent me reviews and encouragement over the years this was on hiatus, and be assured, I read -all- of them. I hope you'll be along for the rest of this ridiculous trainwreck of a ride, too. It's been a long time since I wrote ANYTHING, so be gentle and throw me your likes, dislikes, criticism and reviews. - Sen.

The room was comfortably dark, the roaring fire in its elaborate grate and ornate stone fireplace in the old Noxian style rarely seen today. A thin woman sat with a cat's grin in a chair which, to any other woman of her stature, would have dwarfed her. The velvet backboard easily ended some foot and a half above her head, and was at least half again her shoulder width. Her wrists rested easily on the armrests as she considered the tall man standing before her with amusement unbound, having deep thoughts. At length, she uttered a slow, malign chuckle that evolved into her sultry purr of a voice. "I thought you'd come sooner." Lace-thin fingers steepled themselves comfortably at her chest as she shifted her weight forward in anticipation. As the firelight revealed her chiseled, cold features and cruel smile, the amber eyes of some predatory jungle cat… Oh, yes, he thought, this chair would have dwarfed any woman but Emilia Leblanc.

Despite the two hours he and Leblanc's comfortable silence had lasted, Jericho Swain seemed completely at ease; he'd known it would only be a matter of time before Leblanc's curiosity got the better of her, and the games they'd played over the decades as allies of convenience and rivals had accustomed him to her…peculiarities. Beatrice squawked quietly in reply, nosing her master's ear with her cruelly curved beak. "I had no need for you earlier, but you knew that." A wry, knowing smirk accompanied the shake of his head. "My campaign in Ionia goes as planned, but as you know, not even I can directly force the Institute's hand in political matters. You know what I need."

Leblanc stood slowly, turning her back to Swain to look out over her garden, sliding her hand along the moonlight's reflection in the glass before her. "Oh, I've heard about your political troubles in Ionia. That still doesn't say anything about what's in this little plot for me." The tap-tap-tap of Swain's cane made her reflection sigh in the mirror, and Leblanc traced her own cheek on the glass, waiting for his reply, and then she watched her eyes widen in curious surprise as he murmured in her ear.

The party had been a terrible mistake. Riven had no words to express how poorly the event had gone off. The highlight of the whole evening had been watching Irelia be forced to make good on Riven's promise to Tristana… Watching the tall Ionian commander take to her knees to make the Yordle's whole night reminded Riven of all the reasons she'd let Irelia get close to her in the first place. She was respectful, kind… Being achingly attractive didn't hurt, either. She was clever. Riven groaned to herself as she rolled to her side on the mattress, eschewing the pillow to rest her head on her arm with back to the door. Cait had loaned her a long nightie – definitely not a style Riven would have chosen for herself, but the rich blue reminded her of other things, and even if she didn't care for the silky garment, she had to admit it was comfortable. She was settling in to brood over the terrible 'party,' knowing sleep would be a long way off, when the gentle knock rapped through the door.

She ignored it.

Knock, knock…

With a grunt of exasperation Riven covered her head with the pillow.

Knock, knock…

With a heavy sigh, she rolled to her feet and opened the door just wide enough to show her face, knowing it would be Relly…and Riven had no desire to let the Commander see her in a nightie. It took most of her self-control to maintain her distant stare through the hopeful expression on Relly's face.

"Can we talk, now?" Relly was dressed in the Ionian uniform she'd worn to the party, the fancy blue breastcoat Riven so admired nowhere in sight. As Riven shook her head and attempted to close the door, she found it blocked by a black boot so polished that even in the evening dim, her reflection was clear.

Riven stared down at it, momentarily distracted by how tired and worn she looked in the distorted image. Thick dark circles laid under her eyes and her hair was… gods awful.

"Riven, please?"

There was a note of insistence in Relly's voice, something that caught Riven off guard. After a moment's hesitation, she sighed heavily and opened the door, closing it behind the other woman and taking a seat on her borrowed bed, mahogany eyes on the ground. Riven would give the Commander her say, but she didn't have to look at Relly while she did it.

Irelia crossed her arms over her chest with an expression halfway between reticent and concerned. For several long minutes, the silence between them was anything but comfortable, until Riven gave an irritated groan. "You wanted to talk. Talk."

The only response was to Riven's words came in the form of a concerned pursing of the Commander's lips, though she took the few steps forward to kneel in front of the woman who had caused her so much consternation over the past few weeks, taking another few minutes to organize her words and the way she wanted to say them.

"If you want me to go, I'll go. If that's what you really, truly want." Relly paused again, uncertain why she was even bothering. Aboardship Riven had just shut the door in her face, so at least this was progress. She leaned her head over to try and catch Riven's gaze in hers, to try and communicate with her whole being that this was serious, not some game they were playing. "I never wanted this for either of us, but things being what they are…"

"You can't help it. You can never help it. It's one stupid comedy of errors after another." Riven spat the excuse angrily, the first emotion Relly had been able to get out of her in two days. Still, the coldness behind that anger made Irelia wince. "What DO you want then, Relly?" She hopped backwards on the bed to maintain her distance from Irelia. What she absolutely did not need right now was to be near that woman, though she didn't move her legs when the Commander's hands landed softly on her.

"I want to go with you. We both know Noxus won't bother with the land war until the politics is cleared up. They don't need me at home." Irelia cleared her throat nervously. Being stoic and silent had only pushed Riven away. A change in strategy was thusly required. "And I know you want me with you. I know what your freedom means to you… Maybe, to us, but I can't trust myself, and I can't trust you to make the decisions we might need to make until we clear this whole…whatever this is up."

Riven stared at Irelia for an eternity without speaking, without daring to breathe or blink, lest the spell that Irelia had cast over the both of them break and they turn backs to each other again, agreeing to pretend nothing was wrong as their worlds shattered, glass panes in a political earthquake. They stared each other down for minutes, hours, days… As Riven opened her mouth to speak, their lips met with teeth-gnashing force, and her awareness faded to senses of touch, taste, sound.